


Bickering, Adventuring Married Couple

by SirKai



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Action, Adventure, Guns, Humor, M/M, Pirates, tomb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-22
Updated: 2011-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-26 10:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirKai/pseuds/SirKai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a quick fic for Ele, since I know she loves Engineer/Spy and I owe her some make up fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bickering, Adventuring Married Couple

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dearcecil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearcecil/gifts).



“Zhis is the last time I let you pick the vacation spot.”

“So this is a vacation?” the Texan said with a smirk as he jammed a fresh magazine into his handgun. He stood shouldering a tall obelisk decorated with worn hieroglyphs. Several more bullets and bits of rock whizzed past the corner, dusting Engineer’s white ten gallon hat. “You mind doin’ the honors, darlin’?” He cocked an eyebrow at the Frenchman ducked into cover across from him. “Ya gotta better angle than I do.”

Spy rolled his eyes and instinctively rested his gloved index finger on the trigger of his vintage M1 carbine. “Zhe genius man who solves problems by simply having others work out the solution?” he taunted just before kneeling over the destroyed wall and quickly firing several rounds. Two guttural screams echoed almost simultaneously through out the tomb as the Frenchman lowered himself back out of sight.

“I did work out the solution, jus’ had you carry it out for me.” Engineer winked, and twirled the pistol around his index finger a few times. “Now we jus’ got the fella behind the coffin right? Pretty sure he’s got himself an MP40.”

“Actually it’s a Sterling Mark 4,” Spy disputed blankly. “I zhink you need a new pair of glasses.”

Engineer reflexively tapped the frames of his glasses. “Dammit. I’ll schedule an eye appointment when we get home-”

A flurry of rapid machinegun fire peppered the wall in between the two mercenaries. Spy glanced at the newly formed bullet holes, and bumped a bit of ash from the end of his cigarette with the barrel of his rifle. “ _I’ll_ do it,” he said. "You’ll simply put it off until we visit your parents again and your mother pesters you about it.”

“Fine,” the Engineer groaned. “You at least cover me while I shoot this varmint?”

“Of course.”

Moving concurrently, Engineer ducked from behind the obelisk towards the other side of the room as Spy popped back over his jagged cover and fired near the ornate, golden sarcophagus in the corner. Dirt sprang from the wall behind it as the bullets buried themselves.

The Texans moved quickly and kept his head low, gripping both hands around his handgun as rounded the corner of the sarcophagus and trained his weapon in front of him. The barrel was raised at the chest of a sweating, fear-stricken bastard with a gray turban and dark skin, clutching his sub-machinegun with white knuckles. Three gun shots and a few sprays of blood later, he was crumpled into the dirt and unmoving.

Engineer holstered his pistol and snatched up the gun from the pirate’s hands. “Damn, yer right. It is a Sterling.” He pinched his glasses away from his face and glared at the lenses. “Reckon I do need mahself a new pair.”

“And you doubted me?” Spy asked, stepping from behind his cover with the rifle slung over his shoulder, and admiring the scene.

“Didn’t say that. Jus’ never hurts to be a little conclusive is all.”

The duo paced across the dozen or so corpses, picking through each body for supplies.

“Well hell, take a look at this...” Engineer reached into the hip holster of a particularly skinny, over-dressed pirate and retrieved a long-barreled six shooter. He rubbed his thumb over the metalwork, brushing away bits of dirt. “A Single Action Army; Bluntline special if I ain’t mistaken. Damn barrel’s a foot long.” Engie flicked out the revolving chamber and spun it with his thumb a few times before whipping the gun at a full arm’s reach and testing the sights. “Wonder how this scraggly mess gotta a hold a’ this beaut. Could use a bit a’ cleanin’, but she sure is a picture,” Engineer said as he eyed the revolver against the sunlight peeking through the cracked ceiling.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t behave as though you admire that weapon more than you admire me,” Spy said, apparently unsatisfied with the rest of the weapons littering the ground. He let his smoking fag drop to the ground and ground it with the sole of his scuffed shoes.

“Aw hell, no need to get jealous now.” The Texan yanked his silver handgun from his belt and tossed it to the nearby Spy.

The Frenchman swiped it out of the air impatiently and sighed. “You know how much I hate left overs.”


End file.
